


Don't care, still yours

by lw531



Series: MJ's Peter [6]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Bisexual Michelle Jones, Bisexual Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Morgan Stark (mentioned) - Freeform, Nightmares, Pepper Potts (mentioned) - Freeform, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter crying, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut, Sub Michelle Jones, Subspace, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Top Peter Parker, smut with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21936529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lw531/pseuds/lw531
Summary: As Peter and MJ grow closer, deeper wounds emerge that need tending. Sometimes words are not enough/too much to move past them.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: MJ's Peter [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562398
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	1. Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an extension of the series MJ's Peter, but I wanted to take it out of the series given that chapters here will be explicit.

MJ goes through the week in sexual frustration. As sweet as their night had been, it had also awakened a hibernating monster inside her. Respecting the one day at a time request he made then, she keeps her sexual hunger for him to be inside her out of the conversation. Hopeful, though, she receives Parker wearing a soft pink sweater dress with a side zipper for easy access and knee-length boots that bring attention to the legs she wants to wrap around him. “Merry Christmas,” she says pecking him on the lips, controlling the urge to call him tiger. 

He arrives in the same pea coat he had on last time, wearing an evergreen turtleneck sweater. “Hey, babe,” he answers with a smile. 

“Lemme just grab my coat,” she says, “you’re a few minutes early…”

“Making better choices,” Peter comments, “had a tendency to be late a lot.”

“Hmm, she says from the closet where she’s pulling out her coat. “I didn’t notice…”

“Liar,” he jokes watching her put on her coat, trying to hide the sound of his swallowing because the way her dress fits against her is tempting him to not share her for the night, “Leeds told me his mom was cooking so, I think the whole family’s going to be there.”

“Aww,” MJ says before turning to finish putting on her earrings, while saying, “It’ll be good to see them.”

“Yeah,” Peter says as she grabs her clutch from the back of the armchair.   


He leaves his car in front of her place, explaining the difficulty of finding parking that night. They walk to Leeds, arm in arm, MJ leaning her head on Peter’s shoulder. On arriving, they hear mixes of Tagalog, English, and Taglish, receiving hugs from Betty and Ned’s older brother, Chris, as Ned takes their coats. 

MJ and Peter go to the buffet set out over the Brooklyn Leeds’s dining room table and sit together in the foldout chairs with Leeds’ third-generation eating the floor, elders on the sofa and a couple teenagers standing and eating and talking to each other. It’s a Christmas night filled with giggles and laughter and old stories.

As the night wears on, the Black Dahlia necklace MJ decided to finally start wearing again, begins to irritate her under her collar. Despite her best efforts at waiting till later, the irritation compels her to take it out, sparking a gasp from Ned, to which she responds with a finger against her lips. Peter was helping Betty take out the trash and hadn’t caught it when he sat down next to her. As Ned was sharing decathlon practice stories with Betty and the brutality of some of their winter break practices, Peter turns to MJ and asks if she wants anything to drink. When she shakes her head no, his eyes catch her playing with the chain and he swallows hard before getting up and getting himself some water. 

On returning, he slides his hand around the small of her back, pulling her closer. He spends the rest of the night, as Leeds’s brothers take turns swapping horrible Christmas present stories with the group, finding any way to touch her. Every time she speaks, he turns to her with the look he tended to save only for her and she struggles not giving him the same. 

As a couple of Leeds’ brothers ask to stay the night so they can avoid cross-Burrough traffic, Peter leans into her and whispers, “Wanna get outta here?”

She nods, setting her hand on his chest and giggling. 

She can’t believe she giggled. 

They leave the party together, walking in silence, their minds racing in the hopes they both want the same thing out of that night. 

He sets his hands on her waist as she unlocks the door. Once inside, he turns her and presses her against the wall. They rush to unbutton each other’s coats, throwing them on the grounds as they stumble further into the apartment, unwilling to keep their hands off each other.

Peter keeps MJ pressed to the wall, tongue deep in her mouth as he unzips her dress. Lifting her up off the ground, he wraps her legs around him and carries her to her room. Throwing her onto the bed, he takes off his shirt before reaching down to slide up her dress. She giggles as he reaches the side of her breasts, and he stops, taking them in with eyes and then his mouth. 

She opens her legs as he presses his body down on her. With one hand on one of her breasts and his mouth on the other, he uses his other hand to ignite her clit. Just as she’s about to come, however, he removes his hand from between her legs, adjusting their bodies on the bed. 

Standing up and scanning her undressed form, he takes the finger he had inside her into his mouth, tasting her salty-sweet cum. He spots the condoms on her nightstand,  _ she planned for this,  _ he thought to himself. 

“Peter,” she moans reaching out her hands. 

He holds his finger to his mouth, “Shh,” he whispers, something he’s never done, while he walks over to grab one. Then, standing at the edge of the bed, he removes his last remaining clothes and puts the condom on his already growing member. He mounts her again, kissing her, and pressing his body against her, moving up and down until her moan compels him to enter her wet hole. 

Her vaginal walls close in over his cock as he starts pumping her. It feels good familiar and he’s content enough in the missionary position, kissing her mouth, digging his fingers into her hair. He’d missed the way their bodies fit together. When she puts her hand on his hips to guide him, however, he wants until her breath becomes uneven to pull out, flip them, and guide her vagina back onto his cock. “Peter!” she gasps. 

He says nothing while focusing his gaze on her navel, pumping her body on top of his cock. She digs her nails into his chest as he quickens his pace, throwing her head back, an indicator of closeness to coming. 

Intent on edge play, though, he pulls her off his cock. She grunts in disappointment as he slides to the side. She throws her hands onto her pillow, turning to look down at his cock and then at his face, confused. With a sly grin, he mounts her from behind, grabbing one leg and wrapping it around his back so he can enter deeper, and holding her by the back of her shoulder with the other hand. She sighs relief when his cock fills her. Wetter than before, he pumps her faster and harder, squeezing her shoulder and pulling her upper leg tighter to his hip, aiming to go deeper still. 

MJ struggles to hold herself up as she edges. She tries to hold out on coming until he says, “ready to come?”

She nods, closes her eyes, throws her head back as she works to tighten her pussy ground his hard wide cock. As he removes his hand from her shoulder and returns it to her clit, she explodes and collapses, followed by his release and slow extraction. He throws himself down next to her. She turns to his face and body shiny with sweat and smiles. She lays a hand on his chest, and he positions it over his heart, closing his eyes. 

After a beat, she plants a kiss on his cheek before getting up and going to the bathroom. He follows, throwing the used condom in the restroom trash and splashing water on his face. He leans in the doorway as she starts washing her hands, splashing her face and neck. When she looks in the mirror, he’s left. 

She finds him on her bed, hands folded behind his head, with a smile. “Hey there, Tiger,” she says.

He makes his eyebrows dance above his head, then reaches to stroke his cock. She starts to get on her knees when he interrupts and says, “C’mere.”

She shakes her head no and says, “I wanna taste you too,” licking her lips. 

“Not unless you sit on my face,” he says, covering his cock. 

Moving up to the head of the bed, she straddles his face, bending down to take his cock in her mouth. She doesn’t sit on his face right away, intent to focus on the way his penis responds to her mouth, hands, and tongue. Once her hand and mouth have established a rhythm of working his cock that incites him to dig his fingers into her thighs, she uses her other hand to play with his perineum, drawing small circles and waves with her finger, toying with the bottom of his crack. The rock of his hips and the sounds coming from his mouth sustain her successful concentration. 

Soon, though, she feels his fingers and his tongue working their magic inside her. When he starts sucking on her vaginal lips, deep throating is all she can do to concentrate and the saltiness of his cock growing in her mouth. As she takes more of his cock into her mouth, he starts sucking on her vaginal lips alternating with having his tongue dance in her hole. She climaxes nearly twice before he arrives, undone by the abandon his oral sex has developed in their time apart.

He’s impressed by how deep she’s taken him, squeezing her ass as she chokes before swallowing his cum. As his cock spends itself inside her mouth, he moves his hands up her side, wanting to keep the smell of her wetness close to him for a little while longer. 

As she unmounts his face, he flips himself so that his head is under hers, takes her in his arms kissing all over her face until they both fall asleep. 


	2. Christmas gift unwrapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ and Peter's families share their reactions to recent updates. 
> 
> “Yeah, but,” he clears his throat, “I was thinking about, you know, the other night and I realized we hadn’t really talked about what we wanted, you know, from each other.”  
> She nods and says, “I realized I didn’t know if I could call you my boyfriend,” she admits, “and I know it’s silly to, you know, worry about it, but--  
> “You can,” he interrupts, a smiling blooming across his face. “I mean, if you want.”  
> “I want,” she says. “I mean I think it’s safe because, you know, it’s a start.”  
> “Yeah,” he says holding onto the phone with both hands, wishing he was holding her face.   
> “Parker?”  
> “Yeah?”  
> “I’m gonna try to wait real hard till Saturday,” she said.

In the morning, she finds herself the little spoon, wrapped in Peter. She stays there, hopeful and scared and full, wanting to keep Peter all to herself. It was the most spontaneous sex they’d ever had, the least inhibited that’s for sure. Despite her historic practice to turn to give what she was receiving, she let herself be wrapped and warmed and treasured in Peter’s arms. Naked, she felt less guarded than the first time he was over, less in control in a way she was finally able to appreciate. 

Peter awoke to MJ balled up on the cocoon his body shaped around her. She was sleeping, by what he could tell of her breathing and heart rate. Her skin was as soft as he remembered, though he’d never felt her so tender in his embrace,  _ did she used to have to always be strong for me,  _ he asked himself as he stroked her cheek, combing the hairs away from her face,  _ should I continue to expect her to be content with whatever was left at the end of a night fighting crime? _

“Please don’t leave me again,” he whispers into her skin, burying his nose into her hair. 

_ Ring, Ring,  _ went the sound that woke Em up from sleep. Peter’s weight on top of her was home and as her alarm sounded again, she hummed, “Peter,” smoothing her hands up his arms.

“No,” he groaned behind her ear..

“Don’t you have to go upstate today?” she asks turning to face him. 

He groaned, pulling her onto his chest as he laid his back flat against the bed. 

“C’mon,” she said running her fingers through his hair, sliding her fingers in between his short locks.

He cracked an eye open and grumbled, “Not yet.”

“Riley’s gonna call me in an hour if I don’t call her first and...”

“Nhnh,” he fussed shaking his head, throwing an arm over his eyes, partly to protect himself from her morning breath. 

“I don’t want to leave either,” she sighed taking in his early morning sleepy resistance as though it tasted of Venitian espresso. “But we could have New Years Eve--

He lifted his arm from his vision and looked at makeup-free first thing in the morning MJ spreading his smile across his face and awakening his dimples. “We  _ will  _ have New Years Eve,” he said drawing patterns in her back. 

“Not unless we don’t get out of bed,” she said sitting up. 

He sat up after her, pecking her shoulder, then resting his chin on it. It allowed him to take in yet another familiar yet almost forgotten angle of her tenderness. She was a different kind of soft, seasoned, worn and exposed, and he closed his eyes to take in what touch and smell and Spidey sense communicated. He could surrender to that softness. 

Opening his eyes to her smirk, he gave her a small smile to which she responded, “I know that look, dork.”

“Good,” he said sprinting off the bed and getting dressed. 

“Do you have time for breakfast?” she asks reaching for a tank from her side table drawer.   


“Course, Em,” he says sitting up, “I wanna take a shower, though,” he says, “wanna join me?”

  
  
  


After being pounded against the wall of her shower, they eat breakfast, Peter helping her cook before reluctantly leaving. MJ goes upstairs to help her sister. On walking in, she finds cooking ingredients, pots and pans on every surface of the kitchen. “Hey,” she says closing the door behind her. 

Riley gives MJ a knowing smile as she walks through the back door. MJ deadpans, “what?”

“Looks like Christmas came early,” Riley says, “had to tell the girls you and Peter got stuck,” she says as she laughs at MJ’s blushing face. 

MJ rolls her eyes at her sister but can’t contain the smile. “What are we working on today?”

“Everything from Turkey Day,” Riley says, “but the turkey.”

  
  


Peter walks into the Starks’ cabin, greeted by a Morgan Stark hug. “Heyya, sis,” he says.

“How was your night?”

“Huh,” he said kissing her forehead. 

“Ned text me last night…”

Peter blushed a deep red, and cleared his throat, “Yeah, his family cooked a huge meal--

Morgan broke from the embrace and narrowed her eyes at Peter. “Fine,” she huffed, “don’t tell me. I’ll just ask MJ--

“Mo!” he whined after her as she took out her phone. “Please don’t tell May!” 

  
  


They tried to be fully present in their respective families, while avoiding talking about the obvious in the change of their behavior. They ran around the house, helped with cooking, joked with family, caught up on events and news they missed. They took moments to themselves where they checked their phones but didn’t send messages. They cleaned up after exhausted hosts, ordered the presents just so, kissed their loved ones goodnight and got into bed reaching out for the other. 

At least MJ had remnants of their night to sleep in. He, on the other hand, was staying in the loft where he opened MJ’s first gift to him, where he proposed in six years ago, and where they spent many a winter holiday getting acquainted with the other’s skin in moments stolen from the demands of others. He stayed up recalling the feel and smell of her, grateful his memory could take him right back there. He looks at his phone, considers texting her, decides against it, holding his pillow like he had held MJ Christmas Eve morning. 

Morgan makes a point to tease him when he makes his way down the stairs, rubbing his eyes awake. “How’s that pillow treating you, Parker?”

“What?” he asks, his eyes scanning the room for information. 

“You kept going, hmmmm,” she says with a slight shimmy, holding her arms close to her, “this morning.”

“Shut up,” he whines, bumping her hip. 

“Well,” she said drinking a cup of hot coffee, “your smile isn’t helping your case, Pete.”

“Leaving early this time,” he said as he pulls out the eggs and buttermilk from the fridge. “New Year’s Eve plans...”

“Mom knows,” Morgan says watching him look for the mixing bowls, “I mean I didn’t tell her--MJ probably did…”

“Huh,” he says as he grabs two bowls, and the flour. “I mean I was at Zora’s birthday, so it was just the first time, we…”

“Peter!” Morgan hissed, looking around to make sure it was only them. 

He paused, pursed his lips together and blinked. 

“I know,” he said with a small smile, measuring the milk and flour out, “I know.”

MJ’s sister dropped subtle hints all morning Christmas morning, first by commenting on her necklace, then by asking her to come back after a distant look, before finally asking her about the hoodie she was wearing. MJ did her best to keep her cool and share enough information to satiate her sister but not more than she was ready to admit even to herself. They’d been building up to the sex for a while, making out in her bed, one of them stopping the other so as to not move too fast, all the while being unwilling to leave or let the other leave for the night. 

There’d been a comfort in the way they wrapped up in each other before heading off into the world. The shift in his sex drive raised questions of what more they could explore, of course, all the while made her more aware of forms of vulnerability she had never exercised before. He’d done everything she asked, it was just timing of sharing information, but they both agreed it was more than him leaving the planet without her, there was a lead up to what they had ignored. Sex being better than ever was just part of it. It was more about communication, moving beyond the mind-reading and filling in the blank they’d had to do post-blip, uncertain of whether their time back was permanent. 

“Auntie,” Z said pulling her sweatshirt as she washed the brunch dishes, “when’s Peteh coming?”

“I dunno, sweetie,” MJ said, “he’s with his auntie today.”

“Oh,” Z said lowering her head, then adding a shrug, “okay.”

“Did you like what Santa brought you?”

She nodded, “wanna come play?”

“Of course!” 

She spent the rest of the afternoon playing dress up and dolls with her nieces, while mom took a nap before joining them. Riley, at one point kissed her on her head, patted her on the back with no words. It was a gesture that said more than the morning’s teasing and the small chuckles she kept to herself whenever MJ was caught playing with her necklace. They’d talk about it eventually, of course, when the girls were asleep, Marcus was back at the hospital and they had time to be giggly and goofy. 

They stayed up all night after Marcus left, talking about what she’d learned about her twink, maybe new boyfriend because they hadn’t started using titles yet, Parker and what she was learning about herself in the weeks they’d been spending together. She talked about her fears, the fears of getting lost to a guy who was so committed to his work, the fears of not holding onto the growth she had accomplished on her own and admitting that she wasn’t sure if they were moving too fast or not fast enough. “What does your gut tell you, Em?”

“That he’ll propose in a year, we’ll figure it out and I’m gonna be fine--but I don’t trust it when it comes to him,” she admits, “I never imagined he’d do what he’d do and he did and I know I’ve only scratched the surface of what’s changed.”

“It’s growth, babe,” Riley says as she pours them more tea, “y’all were so young and people did some impulsive and stupid shit in an effort to re-integrate, but y’all who left and came back together had a lot to carry. I remember when you would talk to me about what you were learning years later, in school, when you were reading about others’ reports on it and, yeah, y’all were the only ones who understood each other, but you two are few of the lucky ones whose people worked wit’ you...I remember thinking, as we packed up your stuff from the apartment you shared, I remember thinking, this shit ain’t gon’ last. Either there’s something you didn’t wanna talk about or you’re scared of what it means to get married to someone who knew his exact purpose in life. You know how to see the world, Em,” Riley said setting her hand on MJ’s, “you’ve got this.”

“I just hope,” she says, “I’m not the only one…”

When she goes back to her apartment that night, she opens her phone and texts Peter,  _ Hey, you up?  _

Within seconds, she gets a reply, “ **:) ;) :*”**

_ Can you talk? _

**Gimme a minute…**

She looks at the screen, waiting and then sees a video call coming in. “Hey, Tiger,” she says looking at him.

“Aww,” he says, “you’re in bed…”

“You’re outside,” she says taking in the front window behind him, “still with the Starks?”

“Yeah, but I get back tomorrow.”

“Hmm,” she said focusing on his lips, “good.”

“MJ,” he begins rubbing the tip of his nose.

“You cold there?”

“Yeah, but,” he clears his throat, “I was thinking about, you know, the other night and I realized we hadn’t really talked about what we wanted, you know, from each other.”

She nods and says, “I realized I didn’t know if I could call you my boyfriend,” she admits, “and I know it’s silly to, you know, worry about it, but--

“You can,” he interrupts, a smiling blooming across his face. “I mean...if you want.”

“I want,” she says. “I mean I think it’s safe because, you know, it’s a start.”

“Yeah,” he says holding onto the phone with both hands, wishing he was holding her face. 

“Parker?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna try to wait real hard till Saturday,” she said.

“Till Saturday?”

“Because I don’t know how long,” she says taking in the side of her pillow, lowering her voice, “the memory of you will linger on these sheets.”

“MJ,” he whines, “not fair. I’m outside and you’re--

“In bed,” she whispers directing her camera phone to where her other hand was reaching in her pants, “remembering.”. 

“I wish I was there with you,” he says biting his lip.

“Me, too,” she breathes bring the camera back up to her face, “but I should stop teasing you. Because you’re outside.”

“It’s a beautiful night out here,” he says. “Fresh powder on the ground and the lake’s reflecting the moonlight real nice.”

“I do miss it,” she says, “being out there.”

“Maybe next year,” he says with a shrug and then covers his mouth. 

“Next year,” she says, “sounds nice..”

“Yeah,” he says more like a question. 

She nods, “I can’t stop thinking about you, Parker.”

“Me either--I mean, about you.”

“I think I’ll go to sleep--

“No!” 

“Just so tomorrow can come by faster,” she says, rubbing on her clit.

“Tomorrow?”

“Good night, Peter,” she says blowing him a kiss through the screen. 

“Good night.”

After work on Monday, she takes the train to Queens, meeting him at the platform. “Hi,” she says ducking her face into her scarf. 

“Hi,” he responds. “You hungry?”

She nods.

They walk to DelMar’s hand in hand, the grocer, a little grayer than before, blinks three times on seeing MJ walk in. He and Peter have an animated exchange in Spanish, of which she picks about 50%, mostly about her and how he managed to bring or get her back. “It’s good to see you too, Senor DelMar, ” she says offering the grocer a small smile. 

He gives them the sandwiches on the house, so Peter tips him the cost of the sandwiches, wishing him a Feliz Navidad as they exit the story. “He says I better not fuck it up this time,” Peter jokes as they round the corner to his street. 

“But I’m the one who fucked it up,” she says with a slight chuckle, trying to mask the guilt and hurt she was still processing.

He shakes his head, “it’s always the guy’s fault…”

She side-eyes him, “you and I both know--

“We have a new start,” he says grabbing her hand, “and that’s all that counts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done with the next dom chapter but surgery will be slowing down typing this week. Please let me know what you think and/or what you'd like to see ;) ;)


	3. Changes in the Parker house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smut :)

Upon arriving at the house Peter and May moved into after the blip, she takes in subtle changes in window design and, a subtle expansion of the attic, “You’ve done a bit with the place.”

“I needed room to work on my own and,” he continues swallowing, “give Ned space to be the guy in the chair...I wanted to make it my own.”

She nods as she follows him in blinking in response to the sleek lines, greater open concept floor plan, updated appliances in the kitchen and a more updated staircase design. “You really modernized it,” she comments. 

He nods as he hangs up his and then her coat, “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome. I worked on every floor, maximizing on the available space and levels...” 

She walks around the house, taking in how much has changed. The memories they made there appeared to disappear. Aside from the updates, the walls were a different color, and light came into the house very differently. “Hmm,” she says as she makes her way to the fridge, grabbing a couple of drinks, and then around the island, “it’s  _ really  _ different.”

“You okay, Em?” He asks standing at the head of the table. 

She nods, frowning a little, “Time has changed a lot,” she thinks out loud, turning to face him from her spot standing against the kitchen island. 

“Not everything,” he tells himself, taking in the sight of her getting comfortable in his house. Raising his voice, he asks, “Wanna join me?” he asks pulling out a dining table. 

She sits across from him, slowly unwrapping her sandwich and taking in the details around the updated windows, grateful the crown moldings were the ones to which she had grown familiar all those years ago. “Thanks for coming back early,” she said in between bites.

“I missed you, too, Em,” he said, reaching out a hand to her. 

“I just wanna make sure we’re not,” she said taking another bite, “moving too fast. I mean, the other night was--

“Different,” he said rubbing the back of his neck, “I dunno what came over me, I forget how my spidey senses put me in hyperdrive when I’m,” he explains, “excited.”

“I was goina say,” MJ said taking a sip of her drink, “new.” 

They laugh, avoiding each other’s gaze. 

She then adds, “I want you to know I can please you,” she clarifies, “I liked where I went as you switched the way you--and then you flipped me…”

“Oh,” he said, turning beet red. “Yeah,” he breathes, “I wanted to make you a last a little longer, sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says setting a hand on his thigh, “the way you took that control was hot. As I was touching myself yesterday, I fantasized about you taking more…”

Peter swallows hard, setting the empty sandwich wrapper on the dining table in front of him. 

She ate slowly, taking in the way he watched her eat. Feeling his hand on her thigh, she sighed, saying, “I’m full, I can put this--

“Let me,” he said taking the remainder of her sandwich wrapper. She finished her drink in the time it took him to put it away, standing up, leaning against her chair, watching him walk towards her. As their eyes meet, she turns to face him, staying in place. His swagger had gotten more confident, she was taking in since they first ran into each other. As the distance between them grew to inches, she scanned his body, foot to face, hoping he’d find a way to take her. 

Standing in front of her, he unbuttons and unzips her pants before reaching into them from the back, smoothing down her bare ass cheek towards her hole. Once he finds it, her breath hilts, as he sticks his finger inside. He moves it around until she’s wet, then he takes it out and tastes it. “So wet, MJ” he tells her smoothing his hand across her face.

“For you,” she whispers leaning forward to kiss him. 

He stops her face from reaching his, pulls his hand out her pants and says, “Take off your clothes.”

He doesn’t leave her much room to maneuver, so she does the best she can, trapped between the chair and his body. 

He takes in her naked form as though for the first time, her well-defined legs, her well-groomed mound, her soft middle, perky breasts, growing chilly in the exposed air, before taking in the expression on her face. When she gulps, and blinks, taking in her bottom lip, he says, “Let go of that lip,” adding as he stands up, “I’ll be doing the only biting today.”

Taking her hand, he guides her up the stairs. She follows in silence, warm and wet in anticipation of not knowing what he wanted from her. His room’s color scheme was black, gray and white, dark gray walls, black comforter, white nightstands. Bachelor elegance, she thought to herself. 

“Wait here,” he tells her leading her to the corner of the bed closest to the door. He reaches for a condom in his drawer. Then, he pulls off his pants, opens the condom wrapper and pulls his cock out of his boxer briefs. Sitting down, he slides the condom over his cock, then tells her to, “sit on it, back to me.”

She walks over to him and lowers onto his cock. It feels warm inside her and it takes all her self-discipline to not ride it. She’d been waiting 48 hours to him to be inside her again, what’s a little longer if that’s what he wants?

He brings her body closer to him, using her breasts. Once her body’s tight against him, he kisses down her neck, massaging her breasts down to pinching her nipples. As her breath grows uneven, the point of one hand trails down her cleavage and rib line, past her navel, till it reaches her clit. Once there, he circles the head until her hips start to jerk, “Stay still, MJ,” he says, “be patient.”

She blinks hard, swallowing again, trembling under his hands and over his cock. 

Peter took telling MJ what he wanted bit by bit. “Squeeze my cock,” he whispered in her ear as his finger reached her Clit. As she obeyed, he worked her clit and directed her hips over him. She set her hands on her breasts, squeezing them in her grip.

His fingers, wet with her cum, reached for one of her hands to replace where his hands had been stroking her, “keep your hand there,” he told her.

“Yes, Peter,” she moaned. She considered saying more, she wanted to let him know how good he felt, how good he teased her, and how hot she was for him, but she knew that was a form of control for her.

He then moved his other hand up to her other breast and rocked them with his hips, making the most of his dexterity and flexibility to get inside her. Then, as he felt himself expand, he grabbed her legs, opening them wider to thrust himself deeper inside her.

She gasped in response, her hips putty as her thighs and vaginal hole trying to hold her position. Her throbbing muscles adapted themselves and she asked, “can I come?”

“Uh-huh,” he grunted moving faster and pulling more of himself, “yeah.”

He was so concentrated on maneuvering her around his cock, he almost forgot to say she had his permission to come. When she did, it was harder and deeper than the last time they had sex. She used her climax as impetus to work harder to get him to come, and his arrival prompted another of hers.

Snapping off his condom, he asks, “you liked that, huh?”

She nods, saying, “Yes Peter,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to update this chapter to better set up the chapters to come. ;)


	4. Long weekend

For their long weekend in February, Peter wanted a familiar venue to MJ in which he hadn’t made memories with her yet. He rented a car to traverse the snow, asking her to wear a blindfold during their drive.

They stayed at a bed and breakfast, one of few couples there, and she was elated on opening her eyes to the view of snow-capped mountains framed by pine trees at their base. “You talked to Righ?” She asked.

He nodded. “I’ll unpack our things, so you can relax.”

She lingers at the window, contemplating the reality that she’d been his girlfriend for 2 months. They communicated with each other better, something that had her contemplating more critically, the fear and self-preservation that kept her from getting close to people.

On hearing a door close, she turns to see that Peter has placed their suitcases in the closet. “What do you wanna do?”

“It was a long drive,” he says stretching and pulling off his sweater, “so nap?”

She nods, “I can drive back, you know,” she offers.

He shrugs, “Boh.”

“Slick,” she says lifting a corner of her mouth.

“Close the curtains and take off your clothes,” he says reaching for his pants.

After following directions, she stands there, waiting for more.

He uncovers the bed before approaching her and leading her to it. Then, he brings her with him. With her laying on top of him, he can’t look at her the way he wants so he flips them. Holding himself above her, he scans her body, warming below him. She tilted her hips toward his and he shook his head, lifting his eyes to hers, saying, “I’m just looking. Hold your eyes on me?”

“Okay,” she whispers, “I’m not good at this...”

“I know,” he whispers with a smile.

She swallows and focuses on his eyes. His brown eyes are gentle, tender, adoring, shifting this way and that every time her eyes try to adjust in an effort to minimize the intensity and exposure. Their nakedness against each other, still and quiet, unnerve her. She feels his practically hairless body against hers and its firm yet soft, close but not pressed against her. They’ve never been this still and this perfectly close. She has to remind herself to breathe.

Who knew such closeness without touching, licking or grabbing could be arousing.

Arousing and terrifying. His reflexes wouldn’t let her escape. This type of submission wasn’t what she expected when she offered to surrender. Still, it was a reminder of Peter’s peter ness, a need for stillness and quiet and closeness at the end of any intense season. The more she takes in the way he looks at her, she gulps to even her breath.

She couldn’t hold the smile and relaxed composure he was holding. Tears couldn’t help but leaking from her eyes as the time they used to have and the time they lost merge. his eyes’ unwavering adoration of her was undeserving. He was revealing the insecurities she still had not addressed. Whatever she felt she accomplished in her work life or in her relationship with her sisters, she wasn’t feeling sure about who she was as a person in the world or who she was becoming.

Who he saw and how she felt about herself were very different. After what feels like days, she blinks long and slow, holding a break from the gaze, scratching her nose and looking towards the shaded window. “MJ?” He asks, “you okay?”

She nods without turning to him, “My thoughts are betraying me,” she says, “and I didn’t—I didn’t want them to...I didn’t want them to communicate the wrong thing to you.”

“Can I kiss you?” He asks relaxing his arms and pressing closer to her.

She nods and turns her head, their noses brushing before their lips touch. He’s careful, sweet, the emotions his eyes were communicating translate to how his lips take her. His tongue set a slow steady pressure against hers, not the fear of their first kiss, but the certainty of a person who wants to kiss her forever.

His lips and hands travel her body’s surface, which becomes pliant under his touch. She whimpers as he pulls and nibbles on her nipples. The aroma of her wetness starting to arouse his senses.

She has rested her hands above her head, as he moves lower. Once near her mound, he lifts her legs in order to get comfortable under them with a direct angle to her slick and swollen pussy. His tongue reaches into an already juicy pussy. “Awesome,” he thinks to himself as he opens her legs to take in more of her.

On instinct, her hips open to him, “amazing,” he says after she squirts. Digging his fingers into her, he catches a whimper of hers again. Looking up, he finds her head twisting and turning in response to his fingers inside her, a relaxed and malleable look on her face.

She’s blissed out.

Once she comes again, he climbs up her body, whispering, “MJ,” in the hopes of bringing her back.

When her eyes meet his, he kisses her mouth before getting up to grab them both the complimentary bottles of water from the fridge. Returning under the covers, he sets an open bottle to her mouth.

She drinks a third of it before looking at him, more alert than she had been when he was worshipping her body.

“Hi,” he says as she sits up.

“Yes,” she says looking at him sitting next to her, “yes I am.”

He smiles and lets out a light laugh. “Where’d you go?” He asks smoothing a hand across her face.

“Everywhere,” she said straightening herself up and taking in the room around her. “I have to use the bathroom now if that’s okay.”

He nods.

When she returns, she stands next to his side of the bed and asks, “where do you want me?”

“Right here,” he answers, pulling the blanket off his person, patting his cock.

“How?”

“Facing me,” he answers reaching for his hand.

He reaches for her ass once she develops a rhythm of riding his cock. He teases the top of her crack, her body jolting in response.

“Hmm,” he hums, lifting a corner of his mouth. He guides her body over him, running a finger up and down her crack. She throws her head back, mouth gaping open, her breath shallow and uneven.

Grabbing her face, he kisses her and she responds in kind, moaning into love his mouth, air forcing itself out of her house and onto his face. She feels malleable under his hand, save her tight hole whose pressure was causing his cock to expand inside her.

Biting her bottom lip, he pulled away as he erupted, needing full breath to maximize his release.

He brought her down with him, after lifting her limp body off his cock.

Humming in his arms, she breathed, “I love you, Peter Parker.” Before passing out on top of him.


	5. What to do with your clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She shrugs, “I’ll wear the jeans I haven’t worn and the sweater I wore here,” she answers, “I was thinking of leaving the rest.”  
> He looks around and says, “leaving them where?”  
> “In Queens,” she answers sinking lower in the water. She comes up and he’s got a furrowed brow with clothes in either hand. “The smaller bag of mine should fit the stuff I will take with me and the larger one can stay in queens, at your place?”
> 
> or the second half of the long weekend, Peter and MJ talk about next steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to extend the long weekend but have this scene set apart because, well, you'll see. ;)   
> Hope you enjoy!

On waking up, she spoons him. He’s warm though not sweaty. When they were younger, she’d just lay on or tighten her hold over him. But then, they didn’t engage in sub/dom dynamics, at least not in the way they were exploring.  
When they went out to eat, she waited for him to touch her, before letting herself hold his hand or lay her hand on his shoulder as they walked.  
When he slept in, she took out her sketch pad to draw him, arousing herself when she began shadowing his cock. As she darkened the tip, she felt her wetness coming and decided to stop.  
Peter woke to find MJ laying in her back next to him, hands behind her back. he could smell her cum off the sheets. He crawled his hand down her middle and felt her wetness between her legs.  
She opened her eyes, watching and feeling his fingers explore her wetness. She smiled when their eyes met, and then closed them to better take in the sensation of his fingers exploring her.  
“Hmm,” she hummed as he went deeper.  
“What do you wanna do today?” He asked as he widened her vaginal lips with his fingers.  
“You,” she answers, “I was drawing you earlier and,” she gasps as he begins to smooth circles on to the head of her clit, “your dick...I miss you putting it in my mouth.”  
“Lemme just finish here” he said quickening his pace, “and then I will...”  
She nods and climaxes fairly quickly, excited he’ll fuck her mouth.

When he takes the chair she was sitting on earlier, after setting a towel under his butt, she rolls off the bed, getting on her knees. He kisses her first, hard and demanding, before directing her head toward the growing member in the middle of his legs.  
He uses his other hand to guide himself inside her mouth Her throat relaxes as she takes him in; she sets her hands on his hips and follows the guidance and pressure of his hand on her head. His cum feels good inside her mouth and she pulls his hips toward her wanting to take in more of him. She moans as she feels him grow inside her, and she tightens her lips around him as he gasps.  
He rocks into her, looking down and finding her eyes glazed, half open, an expression similar to when he was kissing on her body. “Em,” he moans to which she responds by taking more of him.  
As her hands climbed helps sides, cool and soft, his body shuddered.  
She swallows and hums as he climaxes, her face flush and relaxed, she whimpers as he slides his exhausted member out of her.  
Lifting her from the ground, he kisses her forehead, “MJ?” He coos.  
She smiles up at him, threads her arms around him, to then set her head on his shoulder. “C’mon.”

She’s more responsive in the shower. Affectionate and tender, she kisses his collarbone as he smoothes a washcloth across her back. “You’re so good to me,” she whispers in his ear, “you take such good care o me.”  
“Let’s go out,” he asks, “I know there’s more to see...”  
She nods, meeting his eyes, and he wonders if she’s landed on the ground yet.  
By lunch she’s her animated self, relating her last visit and comparing winter to summer months. They walk through the town, then the bare orchard, talking about their respective weeks ahead.  
After exhausting their feet, they arrive at the lobby in time for spiked cider and the fireplace. Taking in the cozy lobby couch till MJ’s breathing against Peters shoulder gets heavier.  
He helps her up the stairs to their room and offers to start packing her clothes. “I’m a take a bath,” she says, “my dogs are tired.”  
He nods, offers her a smile as he continues packing.  
“Hey, em?” He asks walking into the bathroom, “what do you wanna do about your extra clothes?”  
“Hmm,” she hums opening her eyes.  
“Do you know what you wanna wear or...”  
She shrugs, “I’ll wear the jeans I haven’t worn and the sweater I wore here,” she answers, “I was thinking of leaving the rest.”  
He looks around and says, “leaving them where?”  
“In Queens,” she answers sinking lower in the water. She comes up and he’s got a furrowed brow with clothes in either hand. “The smaller bag of mine should fit the stuff I will take with me and the larger one can stay in queens, at your place?”  
“My place?” He gulps with a squeal.  
She nods, her face warming for other reasons than the water.  
“If you want,” she answers setting her hand on her knees rising out of the water. “I mean, in case I ever stay longer than a night or, you know, I mean, so I don’t leave wearing—if it’s too forward, am I asking too much? I’m asking too much,” she says shaking her head.  
“No, no, no,” he rushes out, sounding worried. Clearing his throat, he says, “it’s not too much.”  
“No?”  
He shakes his head and says no, walking in to kiss her forehead. “I have closet and drawer space,” he adds leaning against the door frame, “easy to figure out...”  
She grins, taking in the way he’s looking at her for a beat before retreating into herself.  
As she walks out wearing a robe, he’s reading something on his phone. “Did you enjoy the weekend?” She asks taking him in boxers and a t shirt.  
He nods, looking up at her for a minute before returning to read New York news. “You?”  
She nods and says, “I liked waking up next to you knowing we’d be coming back to the same place...and I know I blissed out for a bit, and I just wanted to let you know that, you did a good job, taking care o me...”  
“I still get nervous,” he said putting down his phone, “about losing you to...”  
“I trust you,” she says sitting at the foot of the bed, “Don’t hold back for me,” she explains setting a hand on his leg, “I just wanna bring your fantasies to life—  
“You,” he says, resting his hand on hers, “you With me is all I ever, could ever...”  
“Me, too,” she says getting further in the bed, “and I wanna just—  
He kisses her pulling her face towards his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still working on how to write Peter as a versatile who's working on being a top/dom with MJ. It makes sense for me and I believe all the reasons he's written sub can easily explain why he'd be a good dom. Still, it's hard, because of how I've written MJ in the series.   
> Let me know what you think.


	6. One step forward, two steps back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ned,” Peter asks taking his glass, “Is it true that I struggle asking for what I want?”  
> “Honey,” Betty says setting her hand on his arm, “you struggle for asking for help and—  
> “Betty?!” Ned exclaims taking his seat on her other side.   
> “Dear,” Betty says turning to Peter, “it’s true. Ned & MJ had to play guessing games with you for those first years and—  
> “Guessing games?” Peter asks after a sip and leaning forward to have both of them in his view.   
> “Dude,” Ned says rolling his eyes, “at homecoming you went all on your own and what would have happened if I didn’t—
> 
> or 
> 
> Peter talks to Ned & Betty about asking for what he wants. (no smut)

At the end of every patrol, Peter arrived home grateful he was finding a rhythm with swinging. He had stopped over the holidays, especially because he and MJ had gotten stuff rolling. But he was grateful he arrived to find himself alone to tend to his wounds and process whatever happened that night.

The nightmares were coming back, repressed memories of Battling the Kree and revised versions of Mysterio’s attack. Sometimes the dreams are scenarios where MJ is getting attacked or what if’s without her being in the picture. He wakes up in a sweat, grateful to be alone with his tears and grief. He wanted to get to a place with his grief that didn’t require getting lost in it like last time, so that she wouldn’t walk away so easily if it ever got hard or scary again. Or, if she did, he’d be strong enough to not get consumed by that either. 

A weekend where MJ has to go to Oakland for work, Peter decides to hang with Betty and Peter by himself. He needs his friends for perspective that he’s not allowing himself to give himself. As the girls play on their jungle gym in their backyard, Ned grabs drinks for the three of them as they watch from the patio. 

“Ned,” Peter asks taking his glass, “Is it true that I struggle asking for what I want?”

“Honey,” Betty says setting her hand on his arm, “you struggle for asking for help and—

“Betty?!” Ned exclaims taking his seat on her other side. 

“Dear,” Betty says turning to Peter, “it’s true. Ned & MJ had to play guessing games with you for those first years and—

“Guessing games?” Peter asks after a sip and leaning forward to have both of them in his view. 

“Dude,” Ned says rolling his eyes, “at homecoming you went all on your own and what would have happened if I didn’t—

“I said thank you,” Peter defended leaning back, pouting. 

“But you didn’t ask,” Betty said, “part of your Parker luck is having observant people figure it out before you do. When have you ever figured out you needed something before someone gave it to you?”

“Plenty a times—

“When, Pete?” she asked taking her eyes off her kids, “Give me an example...and when someone didn’t set it up—“

“Ned,” he interjected, “help, please...”

“Exactly,” Ned says, “I had to beg to be the guy in the chair and right after the blip you were better but then,” Ned continues, “college happened, working with stark and avengers happened and you got caught up like a kid who was supposed to save the world again...the whole next Tony Stark thing.”

Peter wanted to protest, say, “but” however he remembered the conversations he had with Dr, strange after he recovered. “It’s not the—

“Peter,” Betty said, “I get it. Not to the same degree, you can do more than the average and you want to be the best at what you do…

Peter takes in TJ and Mari dangling from the jungle gym and is tempted to show it how it’s done. Ned, though, has warned peter about modeling behavior the little Leeds’ can’t follow. Life was so much easier when balance on the monkey bars was all he had to worry about. “It just feels good to help people,” Peter sighed, “knowing that I can and that I have and that I can count on that--

“But you can count on other things,” Ned said, “you can count on us, can’t you?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, “Of course I can count on you two--you’ve seen the worst of me and haven’t left--” he said getting up. He chases the kids around the yard, keeping the pace slow enough for them. They piled on top of him with giggles and tickles till the chime of his watch with news of Queens events pulled him away. 

***

Coming back from Oakland, catching with Shuri and Okoye who had been in town, provided perspective. They went out dancing and stayed up most nights talking about work, their relationships, and the people watching they had done at the club. MJ took a day to process the events--both the trainings and catching up with friends--before going back to the office. 

Work had its demands and she came to terms with how much time spent with her sister’s family was about avoiding being alone as much as it was about spending time with her nieces. Narrowing her time with them allowed her to see herself differently. The occasional night out with friends was great, but she wanted more. She wanted an updated version of her dream with Peter. 

Long weekend with Peter hadn’t changed their routine. Despite past routine, he didn’t end up at her house after Spider-manning. Despite the distance from queens, she couldn’t not be disappointed. Sexually, their chemistry was on point. It was clear they were not starting where they left off. Their sex life, in some ways, expanded on what they had left behind for each other; it was telling her that their new beginning wasn’t altogether completely new. She’d gone from taking the lead and egging him to letting him define where they were going and what they were doing. She wanted to talk to him about it but didn’t know where to begin. Usually when she spoke, she directed and she didn’t want to direct. 

He’d call her when out on patrol, ask about her day or talk about something that reminded him of her. They’d laugh. If it was late enough, she’d crawl into bed and let his ramblings put her to sleep. She tried to keep herself from telling him she wanted to be there when he got home, because as much as she wanted to him to find his way to her, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to wait in his place. She wasn’t sure if he wanted her to wait in his place. 

Selfishly, she didn’t want to share him, wanting instead to have him all to herself during his free time. She chalked up such feelings to, well, being overwhelmed by the love she tried to ignore but couldn’t. As tempered as she tried to be around him, she knew her her quickening pace and her flushed face would give her away. She wasn’t sure if she ever told him she loved him during sex because it was getting easier and easier to get euphoric in the act. He was attentive and detail-oriented during foreplay, hungry and uninhibited once he got inside her. Whether they had one or two nights a week together, it was enough to just be near him. 

After so long apart, she wanted to be the one at the end of the day, she wanted to be the one first thing in the morning. He was home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think.


	7. When you’re ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...I’m thinking about moving out of my sister’s.”  
> “Really?”  
> “I mean,” MJ says, “ready for a new chapter in my life and having my own space, leaving her hers...”  
> “I thought you felt you had one,” he says.  
> “I mean I do, I just,” MJ says, “I feel like moving on to the next chapter, being more than an aunt...Betty doesn’t want me leaving Brooklyn.”  
> “You talked to Betty?”  
> “Yeah,” MJ said, “it was an idea, nothing in stone, I just...I don’t want to live on the ground floor or in a garden apartment anymore...”  
> “Oh,” Peter said looking at his plate, “why didn’t you tell me you were thinking—  
> “I am telling you,” MJ interrupted, “I just started thinking about it and I saw Betty first...”
> 
> or MJ tells Peter she wants to make changes in her life and everything Betty/Ned warned him about comes to life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because their sex is great doesn't mean they've healed all the wounds between them.

Leaving Pepper at Stark Industries for lunch, MJ catches Peter walking into the building. She waves to him as he spots her amid the lunch hour crowd, and he turns to follow her. She waits outside the doors, taking in the gray sky til she feels his hand behind her. “Hey,” he says pecking her in the cheek. “Can I walk you back?”

She nods.

“How was lunch?”

“Good,” MJ said, “Pepper wanted to eat at the office lounge, which actually offers really good food.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, “just had a meeting across the street,” meeting her eyes he said, “glad I did.”

“Me too,” she said as they crossed the street.

“What do you have planned with the girls tonight?”

“Nothing,” MJ said, “TJ had a bug and Marcus is working late so no girls night...”

“Oh,” Peter said, “so you’re free?”

“I am, Parker,” she answers as they wait at a light.

“Wanna come over?”

“I thought you had a...shift.”

“I do,” he says with a shrug, “but I’d like to see you.”

She nods. “Let me know when I should head over,” she says as they approach her building. “I mean so we get there at the same time...”

he nods, bouncing on his feet before he gives her a small kiss on the lips.

  
  


She arrives before he does, grateful for her ebooks and the light coming from the lamp. “Sorry,” he texts, “I’ll open the door in 10.”

Fifteen minutes later, she sees the lights in his house turn on, prompting her to stand. “Hey,” he says with freshly washed hair, t-shirt, jeans, and a smile, “there was a—

“A thing,” she says walking into the door he’s holding open, “I had a book.”

“You hungry?”

She nods, hanging her jacket on the coat rack and setting down her bag. “I’m grateful you Invited me over today,” she offers, “I missed you.”

“Me, too,” he says kissing her forehead. “Warm front brings out the worst in some people.”

“Hmm.”

“I set pesto fettuccine to cook before so it should be ready soon. Would you like something to drink?”

“Water,” she says sitting on the couch. “And start the hot water for tea.”

He hands her a glass before sitting down. “I don’t remember you showering after spider Manning...”

“Before we did it together, but I was just so excited that you were going to be here,” he said, setting a hand on her knee.

She shrugs, “I’ll shower before bed then.”

She rests her head on the back of the couch, taking in a clean and relaxed looking Peter. Even though they’d been together for only 4 months, she’d be willing to move in with him if he was ready. She had more of her clothes at his place than he had at hers and despite nightly conversations that ended in “I wish you were here” or “I wish I was there,” he hadn’t proposed it.

That night had been one of a handful where he wanted to see her after Spider-Manning. They ate at the table and she listening to him talk about the green project he was working on, using technical terms with which she had been getting reacquainted. He was animated and lively as she savored his homemade noodles and his company. Studying his face, she could see a fading scratch under his eye and a yellowing bruise on his forearm. Indicators that he didn’t want her to see him injured.

“Considering my higher salary,” she began, “and the money I saved, I’m thinking about moving out of my sister’s.”

“Really?”

“I mean,” MJ says, “ready for a new chapter in my life and having my own space, leaving her hers...”

“I thought you felt you had one,” he says.

“I mean I do, I just,” MJ says, “I feel like moving on to the next chapter, being more than an aunt...Betty doesn’t want me leaving Brooklyn.”

“You talked to Betty?”

“Yeah,” MJ said, “it was an idea, nothing in stone, I just...I don’t want to live on the ground floor or in a garden apartment anymore...”

“Oh,” Peter said looking at his plate, “why didn’t you tell me you were thinking—

“I am telling you,” MJ interrupted, “I just started thinking about it and I saw Betty first...”

Peter lifted his eyes to her, a flash of disappointment emerging across his face. She wanted to tell him she wanted to move in with him, but if he didn’t want her to see him bruised, she felt he wasn’t ready.

“You look disappointed,” she said, “Like I should have...”

“I would have liked to know first because, you know, New York housing doesn’t come cheap.”

“I know.”

“And you’re already on the other side of town and—

“I’d be between Queens and Brooklyn,” she interrupted, “if I move. I wouldn’t want to be too far from the most important people, Pete,” she says setting a hand on his.

“So you’re thinking completely on your own,” he asks, “no roommates?”

She shakes her head, “only wanna live with family or future family when—if I move in with someone.”

“Oh,” he said as blushing bloomed across his face.

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh and experiencing a loss of appetite.

After a beat, she went upstairs to take a shower.

Peter put leftovers away and set her bag on the couch. He cleaned up the kitchen and then went upstairs to grab laundry and start the wash.

She heard him open the door, probably to grab her dirty clothes. On finishing, she threw on her Berkeley sweatpants and a science pun t-shirt. She found her tea seeping downstairs and Peter sitting on the couch with his feet kicked up.

She took in a corner next to him, pulled out her sketch pad, new sheet, drawing Peters pensive look. “So you would live in queens?”

“Yup.”

“Sorry I overreacted,” he begins, “I just got scared for a second, about you leaving New York and—

“My life is here,” she said tracing the bags under his eyes, “for as long as you want me.”

“Em?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you wait?”

“Wait for?”

“Moving,” he said his voice going up at the end. “Till I’m ready, ready for you to move in here...”

She looked up and nodded, “yeah, I can wait for that.”

From his phone, he had Friday start the “MJ drawing” playlist. He hummed to the songs he knew. Her concentrated face shifted each time she adjusted her sketch pad. When her face calmed, hinting at being done, he said, “come here,” patting the couch next to him.

When she sat down next to him, he turned towards her, sliding his hand under her shirt. He rested his hand on her breast, then circled her nipple with her thumb. When it got hard, he leaned them onto the seat of the couch. On top of her, he rose her shirt until her breast was exposed. He took her breast in his mouth, licking, sucking and massaging it.

MJ was getting warm and hot under him. She arched her back to press against him more. She threw her arms over her head, Peter’s hunger controlling their foreplay.

He slid her shirt off and kissed up to her collarbone, keeping his hands on her breasts and pressing against her. He moaned into her neck causing her body to shudder. She whimpered as her panties got wet; it had been too long since he was inside her. She’d have him every day if she could.

Peter felt MJ soft and pliable under him. Sliding his arms under her, he brought her up, holding her by the back of her neck as he kissed down her front. Feeling her hands crawl under the hem of his shirt, he moved her hands from his skin, setting them on each hip before grabbing her neck again. He reaches for her lips, taking in her bottom lip between his, pressing her body to his. 

She left her hands where he set them, letting him explore her body the way he saw fit. 

They stayed on the couch, Peter taking his time with MJ’s body, waiting until he could relax around the bruises healing on his back and legs. He slid his fingers into her, finding her thick wetness. Ready for his cock, he slipped on a condom before entering her, rocking into her slowly, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

Instead of resting her hands on his hips, she smoothed her hand at the nape of his neck, letting him come on his own time. His weight on top of her was delicious, safe and protective. The missionary position on the couch was one of her favorites when they lived together because it allowed her to be consumed by him in ways few other posts had. A little vanilla, she treasured the feeling of his dick filling her as his body enveloped her, containing her in his heat.

As she lowered her hand to his shoulders, trying to smooth down his arms, he lept off her with lightning speed. “I gotta—I’ll be right back,” he said backing away and darting up the stairs.

Pulling up her pants, she felt a little exposed. She grabbed her shirt, went to use the bathroom in the half bath behind the kitchen, rinsing her face and patting the back of her neck. Removing her arms from his shirt was one thing, darting away after coming inside her was a little unnerving.

MJ snapped into protective mode as soon as Peter tried to explain. Part of her wanted to leave, hiding his scars an indicator of protecting her in ways he hadn’t ever needed to when they were first together. Part of her wanted to hold him accountable to not forgiving her, for treating her as someone who couldn’t take on what she used to carry before. The part of her that would have left that night justified his fears, so she stayed in her discomfort, the ruined mood and the messiness of trying to hold onto the warmth of being consumed on the couch. “Can we just,” she offered looking down, “hold each other? And you tell me what parts I can and cannot touch—

“Yeah,” he breathed, sounding a little choked up as well. “The bruises are still there from earlier and—

“I get it,” she sniffles, “you don’t want me to see them—

“I just don’t want you to worry,” he said lifting her face to his.

“No, yeah, fine,” she interrupted, letting him kiss her briefly. “Maybe next time I’ll just touch you where you want me to touch you,” she suggests meeting his eyes, “since sex after spider-manning is different.” She gets up from her seat to set her mug in the kitchen.

“Michelle,” he groans following her, “it hasn’t—“

“Hey,” she says turning to find him a foot away, “if I were you I would guard everything I feared prompted me from leaving—

“Just trying to take it slow,” he offers, “I have different responsibilities at work now and Spider-Man has a more critical reputation...”

“I’m right here,” she says setting her hands on the surfaces on either side of her, “I want to be here however you want me, wherever and whenever you want me, Pete. I’m in love with you, Pete,” she says, “and I will love you how ever, & wherever, you let me...”

“MJ, I—“

“And it’s okay if you don’t want me to see you hurt,” she says smoothing her hand against his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He rested his forehead against hers, wanting to believe her more than he did.

The fear of losing her sparked nightmares, mixing wedding dresses, Mysterio torments, and Kree battle. He woke with a start and a gasp. Finding MJ next to him, he couldn’t help the tears from falling. Before his sobs could wake her, he left her in bed and walked down to his office. Turning on the light, he closes the door and lets the sobs come.

His absence wakes her, “Peter?” She calls out.

She leaves the bed, searches the rooms on the second floor and then goes down and searched the first. She hears muffled sounds and looks behind the door across the bathroom. Upon opening the door, she finds stairs to the sounds. Instead of going down, she sits there, thinking about what work they still had to do. In the past, he wouldn’t have left her to hide his tears. One of the beautiful things about their relationship, their  _ first  _ relationship, was their ability to be vulnerable and weepy with each other and with their shared understanding of loss. As angry as she wanted to be about his behavior, choosing to get back together didn’t mean going back to the way they were. As much as she thought she was a better listener, he was still scared about her seeing him at his weakest. 

He wakes up to find that he never made it back to the room. Looking at the painting MJ had given him 13 Christmases ago, he hopes she didn’t wake up to find him gone, let alone hear him. On arriving back to his room, he sighed relief to find her there, turned towards the window. Crawling into bed, he spoons her, nestling his nose in her hair, “I don’t wanna lose you, MJ,” he whispers in her ear. 

MJ takes a deep breath and, instead of turning and kissing him as she would after his past dreams, she stays there, hoping that next time he’ll trust her with his hurt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, let me know what you think!


	8. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I did that thing where I dropped hints, afraid of how you might feel,” she says looking down at her hands, wary of moving to sit down because her legs were putty and holding herself up was all she could manage at that point, “and then I did that thing where I talked to other people about it and not you and that’s not fair to either of us and I was spooked when you didn’t let me see your bruises, then,” she says looking up at him, “cried yourself to sleep in the office--
> 
> “MJ,” he interrupts walking around the table to stand closer to her, “I can explain--
> 
> “You don’t want me to run,” she interrupts him as he sets her hands on his, “and you don’t wanna lose me and I need you to know I’m not going anywhere, so,” she continues trying to hold her eyes on his but she’s really nervous because his brown eyes are full of all his feelings and she’s still struggling to keep herself standing, “I wanna move in with you; I wanna marry you--but you have to propose--and I want all of you,” she then says with another deep breath, “and I want you to trust me with your scars.”
> 
> or   
> MJ explictly tells Peter where she wants their relationship to go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure of my update timeline, vacation almost over, I did, though, want to post this. :) 
> 
> (there's smut here) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Peter sees that MJ is calling him as he swings home. He answers the phone and says, “Hey,” between swings, “what’s up?”

“You on your way home?” she asks.

“Mhmm,” he says shooting web towards the streetlamp a couple blocks from home. “What’s up?”

“How was your night?,” she says. 

“Low key,” he says, “a couple pick pockets and a car accident I mediated and served as witness to…”

“Would you like some company?” she asks. 

“Uh huh,” he says swinging into his bedroom door. 

“Good,” she says, “I’m outside your front door.” 

He changes quickly, opening the door to find her there with a bag of takeout. 

“That was fast,” she said getting up from her seat. 

“I was fairly close when you called,” he said as she walked in, “why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Well,” she said sticking her hands in her jeans pocket, “I wanted to surprise you,” she answered. 

“Aww,” he said giving her a small kiss on her lips.

“And I wanted to apologize for the other weekend I stayed after you went swinging, I,” she took in a deep breath following him to the dining table,”I wasn’t being completely honest. And I want to make better.”

“About?” he asks setting the take out cartons on the table. 

“About the whole moving thing,” she answers, grabbing the back of the chair, wary of sitting down. She watches him get plates, cans of seltzer water, and utensils. “I want to move in with you,” she says as he hands her a plate. 

He’s about to give her a bottle of seltzer water but her words catch him off guard and the can stumbles across the table despite his reflexes. “Move in with me?”

She nods, “I did that thing where I dropped hints, afraid of how you might feel,” she says looking down at her hands, wary of moving to sit down because her legs were putty and holding herself up was all she could manage at that point, “and then I did that thing where I talked to other people about it and not you and that’s not fair to either of us and I was spooked when you didn’t let me see your bruises, then,” she says looking up at him, “cried yourself to sleep in the office--

“MJ,” he interrupts walking around the table to stand closer to her, “I can explain--

“You don’t want me to run,” she interrupts him as he sets her hands on his, “and you don’t wanna lose me and I need you to know I’m not going anywhere, so,” she continues trying to hold her eyes on his but she’s really nervous because his brown eyes are full of all his feelings and she’s still struggling to keep herself standing, “I wanna move in with you; I wanna marry you--but you have to propose--and I want all of you,” she then says with another deep breath, “and I want you to trust me with your scars.”

He kisses her forehead when she’s done speaking, then her nose, before kissing her on her lips. He doesn’t know what to say, pulling her in closer, his tears stain both their cheeks and he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing or apologize or deny what happened the other night. “I love you, Em,” he says when she sets her hands on his chest, to catch her breath. “I’d love for you to live with me…”

She looks into his soft, relieved brown eyes and says, “not until you trust me with your hurt, Pete. I’ve seen the worst that’s been done to you and while I didn’t have the strength then,” she says, “because I was young and scared and exhausted,” she takes a beat to swallow and works to sustain focus on his eyes as they dart across her face sad and scared, “I am here committing to taking the worst and the best of being with you. And your scars are both of those things for me, she says smoothing her hand across his face, “they show me what you’ve done for others; what I know you’ll do for our kids, our family, and they remind me that you are alive, that you are here, that you are sharing yourself with me.”

“Aww,” he says pulling her in closer, “MJ,  _ our  _ kids?”

She rubs her nose against his, nodding with her eyes closed, “You’re the love of my life, Peter Parker,” she says before kissing his cheek, “now let’s eat because I know how hungry you get after swinging.”

After they eat, they clean the table, dispose of the trash, “I didn’t have time to get cleaned up,” Peter says, “wanna help in the shower?”

She nods, and with a smile, she says, “I love post-Spider-man showering.”

He leads her up the stairs, and into the bathroom. 

Once in there, he says, “can you take off my clothes?”

She reaches for the rim of his t-shirt, he lifts his arms up and she catches the site of a bruise blooming on his side. Pausing de-shirting him, she bends down to kiss it and he says, “I got in the middle of an initiation yesterday,” he explains as her kisses skim the bruise. 

She returns to removing his shirt, kissing his collarbone as the shirt peels off over his head. Her hands find their way to his waist and she slides down his pants, kissing his hip bones and smoothing her hands down his thighs until his knees. His body is firm and clean and she smooths her hands up the back of his legs and ass as she makes her way back up to his face. She kisses his lips, setting her hand on the nape of his neck, pressing her clothed body to him. “I want you to tell me,” she says as she takes a step back to undress, “where you want me to touch you.”

When she’s kicked her clothes to the door, he takes in her naked firm, her untouched nipples, “Everywhere, Em,” he breathes as he takes her hand and leads her into the shower. Turning on the water, he stands in place as MJ slides her hands up his front, while planting soft kisses on his shoulders. “Feels so good,” he breathes. 

“I wanna make you feel good,” MJ whispers in his ear before nipping it, “will you let me?” she asks sliding her hand down his front to the base of his cock. 

“Uh huh,” he says nodding, he guides her to wrap her hand around it, grinding his ass against hers. 

“I can,” she considers crawling her hand down his back, “I can touch you there too,” she offers drawing circles around the top of his ass crack. 

“Please,” he breathes feeling her hand slide up and down his shaft. 

Creating a gap between her hips and his, she runs her finger up and down the valley of his ass, until she finds his hole. He opens his legs to receive her better, setting his hands on the wall under the shower head. When he begins to feel a draft where her head used to be, the feeling of her tongue in between his ass cheeks lets him know where she’s gone and what she’s doing. “MJ,” he squeals as he feels his cock harden in her hands, “oh, MJ.”

He lowers his hand to his cock, to guide her along, “Show me,” she says taking a break from his delicious hole, “how do you want me to touch you?”

He guides her hands along his shaft, pressing her thumb against the back of his cock’s head before bringing it up, “like that,” he breathes removing his hand from hers. 

“How’s this?” she asks repeating the motion. 

“Yeah,”he says, and as he feels her tongue return to his ass. 

She massages his perineum with her other hand, pressing against his prostate. His body shudders over her and he has to use his Spidey-senses to stick to the wall and the floor to keep from crumbling under the pressure of pleasure she’s giving him. 

MJ smiles into his ass, contented with moans and squeals coming from Peter. When she moves her hand to penetrate his hole, he clenches his cheeks around it, “Unh, MJ!” he grunts, as his penis twitches in his hand, “I’m so--

“You want me to stop?”

“No,” he says unclenching his cheeks, “I just...please, keep going.”

MJ brushes kisses across his ass as she worked his cock and his hole. She pressed her body against his legs, her nipples hardened by the unintended rubbing that took place as she pumped Peter’s cock and worked his hole. He thrust himself into her hand, something he hadn’t done since they’d gotten back together, and his moans gave her courage to insert another finger, and the “Please!” he grunted affirmed her decision. 

“You feel so good, Petey,” she whispers as she starts pressing kisses to his skin, “you taste so--”

“Go deeper,” he interrupts, whimpering, “harder.” 

Obediently, she pushes her fingers all the way in, pressing against the soft flesh inside him, sparking another grunt. 

“You’re so hot,” MJ whispers against his skin, “taste so good.” 

“Uh huh,” he responds, shuddering. “I’m almost--

She focuses on the head of his cock, and his grunts get more frequent and his hips move faster. She bites his ass cheeks, after which he moans and comes hard in her hand. She takes in the cum the shower water didn’t wash off saying, “delicious,” waiting for a whimper and another twitch from his cock before pulling out of his ass. 

He turns towards her, looking down at her flushed face taking the water over it. He brings her up, licking her lips before she opens them to let him fully kiss her. He presses her against the wall, kissing down her jaw, till his mouth lands on her neck. When it does, he feels her tongue slide up his, followed by her teeth taking in the bottom of his ear, “Being inside you felt so good,” she hisses, “so good.”

She lets him wash her hair as she washes his back and ass, and then continues with the rest of his body. She bathes him with a bar of soap, being extra gentle around the erogenous zones she had stimulated and the bruises that were still healing. She then rinses her hair and takes in the way he leans back in the shower to absorb the way she’s washing her own body. She watches him scan her body and the hunger in his eyes makes her hot. At first, she faces him as she rinses her hair, her nipples getting hard by internalizing the way he’s looking at her. She turns around and bends over to rinse the bottom half of her hair, carding through it to get everything out. With his hands on her hips, she considers rubbing against him. She presses her bottom gently onto his shaft, taking a step to widen her stance, as she reaches into her hair, to massage the soap from her scalp. 

He holds her to him as she rolls back up, turns off the water to put in her conditioner. He’s already started to harden against her, so he sets his hands on her arm, guiding her to turn around in place, “What do you want, Parker?” she asks, her tone seductive and submissive. 

Grabbing her face, he pulls her into another kiss, fucking her mouth with his tongue, lowering his hand to her nipples. 

She hums and, when he starts kissing her jaw, between gasps she says, “it feels good to please you,” adding, “I wanna make you feel good, Petey, do to me what makes  _ you  _ feel good.” 


	9. Memorial Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He unlearned hoping in her by the sight of these trees, despite Steve and Bucky’s encouragement, despite what May said about MJ’s departure. She had become a ghost that was now coming back to life and, with that, all those dreams he didn’t think possible--but fear stood between him and those dreams, those hopes, those plans they built. Fear and grief that, apparently, her arrival and her commitment did little to resolve. 
> 
> She awakens to the sight of a clear surface, blue skies and a cabin nestled in a vision as far from urban as possible. On looking to her left, she finds the driver’s seat empty. Looking forward again, she finds Peter bringing the bags to the front door. She waves from her seat, and he smiles back. “Hey,” she says as she gets out the car, “did I sleep the whole way?”  
> He nods as she smoothes her hand down his back.   
> “I’m sorry,” she said, “I spent all night worrying about--
> 
> or 
> 
> Going to the Stark cabin, unresolved fears and anger arise. It doesn't keep Peter from having his way with MJ ;)

##  Memorial Day 

Peter wants to see if he and MJ can be at the cabin, like old times, save without family. Pepper lights up at his request for using it Memorial Day weekend, giving him the keys before he can confirm MJ will say yes. “Of course she’ll say yes,” Pepper says unable to contain her grin. 

Peter offers a smile in return, trying to mask his nervousness. She says yes over the weekend, as they’re packing up her books, and her attentiveness in their post-packing shower is reassuring. 

Still, when he arrives to pick her up Friday morning to go, he hasn’t been able to shake nervousness, fear, apprehension. He arrives in front of her sister’s brownstone and catches her waiting outside with a mug of tea, a pair of large cotton reusable grocery bags at her feet, and the carry-on sized suitcase that matches the bag she left at his house after their trip to Vermont. He takes in the sight of her in lavender leggings, soft pink sweater and messy bun, optimistic about the trip ahead. “Did you have a slow night of swinging?” she asks, “I didn’t see anything on the news but--

“I did,” he says giving her a soft kiss, “nothing major.”

She wraps her arms around him, inhaling his scent, hopeful for a weekend of better dialog since the night his nightmares took him away from her. 

He loaded the car as she moved to sit in the front. She watched him get in the car, his eyes twinkling. “I’m glad you had an easy night,” she said, “last night, not that it would be bad if you didn’t--

“Thanks,” Peter said starting the car, “a couple almost muggings and a lost kid but then I was home…”

“Hmm,” she says nodding, “THanks for taking the weekend off…”

“It’ll be good for us,” he says as he checks his blind spots. 

By the time they leave the city limits, he takes note that she’s sleeping. Despite his best effort, the memories of heading to the cabin after they’d broken up begin to surface. He weeps for those tears, even though they’ve long passed. He struggled to go there the Christmas after she left, knowing the memories they had made, the time he had spent talking to May about the proposal. It took him years to be content enough with the memories of sharing the space with others. It was Tony’s house; Pepper wanted to keep him in the family because of what of Tony he could share with Morgan. He had spent so much time focusing on that, relying on that, he hadn’t considered what it meant to bring MJ to a place where they built so many memories he spent so much time trying to bury and shrink. 

He feels her sniffle against him, shift her head off him. When the traffic calms and the roads get less curvy, he sets a hand on her leg, trying to hold on to the present instead of the past that continues to sneak up on him. He unlearned hoping in her by the sight of these trees, despite Steve and Bucky’s encouragement, despite what May said about MJ’s departure. She had become a ghost that was now coming back to life and, with that, all those dreams he didn’t think possible--but fear stood between him and those dreams, those hopes, those plans they built. Fear and grief that, apparently, her arrival and her commitment did little to resolve. 

She awakens to the sight of a clear surface, blue skies and a cabin nestled in a vision as far from urban as possible. On looking to her left, she finds the driver’s seat empty. Looking forward again, she finds Peter bringing the bags to the front door. She waves from her seat, and he smiles back. “Hey,” she says as she gets out the car, “did I sleep the whole way?”

He nods as she smoothes her hand down his back. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I spent all night worrying about--

“It was great watching you sleep,” he interjects kissing her forehead. “C’mon,” he says taking her hand, “I’ll put stuff away and you can get comfortable.”

Following him up the stairs, down the porch to the front door, the memories start flooding in. Tag with Morgan, late nights watching the stars from the porch, early mornings with coffee an snowmen between the house and the lake. She lingers on the porch, taking in the memories and the internal conflict she had produced in the years she tried to move past them before walking into the house where she and Peter shared so many New Years’ and Christmas holidays with his family. 

The house hadn’t changed much. While the furniture was updated, looking new, the after sun still came in strongly through the windows and the open concept retained eco-friendly, sleek designs. She watches Peter bring food bags to the kitchen, then smile at her as he walks all their bags upstairs in one trip. Her eyes linger on the staircase, recalling the ways he’d flip down from them for dinner. She had considered, in those moments, what their kids would be like, if they too would have his powers. Thinking about the kids she wanted with him, knowing they’d have the chance to have those kids, filled her to the brim. Her eyes water in spite of herself. 

As she starts to walk towards the kitchen, he sets his hand on her arm, letting gravity move it down her arm until landing on her wrist. Then he wraps his finger around it, holding firm as she stops walking and returns, “Peter?”

Looking at her from under his eyelids, he plants a soft kiss on her lips. Once she’s smoothing her hand on his face, he dives his tongue in deeper, bringing her hip closer to him. Classic ‘Peter hungry’ kiss, MJ surrenders to the authority he’s exercising, softening in his mouth and under his hands.

His tongue dives deep and hard, she’s struggling to keep up but then he pulls back, taking her bottom lip between his teeth with him.

“Yeah?” she asks taking in his puffy lips, carding her fingers through his hair. 

He scans her from her waist to her face, raising an eyebrow and offering a smirk. She whips off her thermal top and he takes off his shirt. On putting her hands on her leggings waistband, he stops her, guiding her to the back of the couch setting her hands on either side of her as he takes her mouth into his again. His skin feels warm against her, inciting heat between her legs. She hooks her legs around his, he pushes his hips against hers as she sighs into the way their bodies are exploring each other. 

His fingers running up her back undo her, a sense of bonelessness overwhelms her and firming her hands into the couch is all she can do to keep herself from melting. “Oh, Petey,” she breathes when he starts kissing her down her neck, moaning when his tender lips reach her nipple. “I’m so wet,” she breathes into his ear. “I’m all yours…”

All the fears and uncertainty that Peter had felt on the way shift inside him and he can’t look at her. After hardening her second nipple, he steps back, turns her around, and slides her pants down. After she pulls her legs out, he kisses his way up her legs, her body shuddering in response. Then, he opens her legs and sticks his finger between her pussy’s lips to see how wet she really is. No doubt that she’s ready. Kissing all the way up to the back of her neck, he undoes his own pants, fishes the condom he had placed in his pocket over his cock and then puts his hardening cock abruptly inside her. Her breath hilts. He takes her chiseled right leg and wraps him around his middle to go in deeper. 

When he sticks two fingers in her ass, she bites her lip to keep from moaning. He’s thick and hard and she’s doing her best to squeeze around his cock. Then, he reaches around for her clit, taking wetness from there to slide into her other hole. She whimpers, trying to pull him in deeper, despite her uneven breaths. She turns to look at him, which he uses as an opportunity to take her mouth into his. “Don’t come,” he says as he removes his hungry lips from hers. 

It’s a tall order given that he bites her shoulder, fucks both her holes, while holding her leg up. 

She’s undone, dropping her head, tasting blood from where she got too hard on her lip, so filled and excited. His speed accelerates, faster and harder and after he says, “Fuck, I’m almost there,” he uses his next breath to let her come. 

She collapses forward with a guttural moan, as he rides out the aftershock. When his dick softens from exhaustion, he pulls out of both her holes, holding her down onto the back of the couch, saying, “Good girl.” 


	10. Nightmare's cont'd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’d awoken before the sun, taking in Peter’s back to her and wondered if the dom role he had taken on the day before was a sign of his anger and frustration. In a few months' time, they had begun to individually work on their fears and, together, attempt to communicate them. At least she did. As high as she had felt about the way he ordered her around, fucked both her holes and responded eagerly to her surrender, she wasn’t sure if they were moving at the right paces. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been away so long. This chapter was shorter than I intended though I hope the next chapter doesn't take me as long as this one had. Thanks for reading! I am grateful for kudos & comments :)

He wakes up to an empty bed, exhausted. Being shirtless sends a shiver through him which he does his best to shake. On stretching and sitting up, he takes in bags by the door. One of the bags looks like his. The blinds are drawn. He looks to the nightstand and picks up his phone, it’s just after 9. There’s a text message from MJ, which reads, 

_ Went for a run, bbs <3 XX _

She was a runner, that’s what she did. Still, left to reflect on the sex they’d had the day before, he finds himself overwhelmed. She’d been so pliable, giving in to everything he asked for. Lying back down, he reminisced on one night stands in which he surrendered control, how much more invigorating that had been, how easy it was to walk away feeling satisfied and unattached. Despite the insecurities that had awoken in him, he set his head back on the pillow and forced himself to go back to sleep. 

MJ’s run through the woods was an attempt to get out of sub drop. She’d awoken before the sun, taking in Peter’s back to her and wondered if the dom role he had taken on the day before was a sign of his anger and frustration. In a few months' time, they had begun to individually work on their fears and, together, attempt to communicate them. At least she did. As high as she had felt about the way he ordered her around, fucked both her holes and responded eagerly to her surrender, she wasn’t sure if they were moving at the right paces. 

As she reached a hill, she began to compare their first round to this current round. They had learned a lot about each other and, in their early twenties, it made sense to, well, move slow and start vanilla, building it up to things like edge play and different positions. Exploring her sexuality without emotions attached had allowed her to take on multiple roles. In her long-term relationship with another woman, she had learned to wear a strap on and had begun to establish an awareness of alternating between being a power bottom and a top. They had talked about their sexual play a lot more than she and Peter had. 

She and Peter, in their first chapter, talked about, well, what was okay and what worked. They never talked about limits, which meant they never considered which boundaries to push. Their sex was sweet and passionate, but never risky. In a day, though, they appeared to pull out tricks that they hadn’t really pulled out on each other before. Those tricks exhausted her and she can’t remember the last time she slept as deeply as she had, still, though, she wondered if/how he felt about their sex. 

Despite being accustomed to run seven miles easily, she found herself walking back to the cabin, nibbling on her nails, not sure how to approach the conversation about the fears she couldn’t shake off in her attempt to run. She didn’t know how to explain her drop to Peter, given the revelation that she feared they weren’t on stable enough ground to have played the way the had the day before. 

Upon entering the house, she pulls off her clothes and sets them by the laundry machines. She then goes upstairs and picks up the discarded clothes down the hallway towards the bed to see if she can start a load of laundry. Once she’s filled the machine, she takes a quick shower, leaving the conditioner in her hair. After she’s done, she starts the machine and starts looking through the books on the main floor library nook. 

On picking up a title on organic gardening, she hears him crying out, “MJ! MJ!” with choked sobs that devastate her. 

She runs up the stairs, calling out, “Here Peter!”

Peter could hear the trembling, it took him to 2023 too quickly, when Thanos’ army was destroying the Avenger’s compound, their bombs tremoring the earth under him. Going back this time, he didn’t have his spidey tingle, he didn’t even have web-shooters, watching people he loved to go up against aliens from outer space and dying. He tossed and turned in bed while, in his dream, he saw MJ wearing the spider suit and dying at the hands of one of Thanos’s soldiers. He cried out for her, ran to her side as she was coughing up blood and closing her eyes. 

  
  


Arriving at the doorway of their room, she joins him in bed and takes him in her arms. “Peter,” she says, smoothing her hand against his sweaty curls, “what’s wrong?”

“You were gone,” Peter sobs, “you were gone in my arms and--

“I’m right here, Pete,” she soothes, kissing the top of his head, “I’m right here.” 

He buries his face into the nape of her neck, mumbling, “don't go.”

“Not going anywhere, Pete,” she says, resting her cheek on his head. 

They get nestled into the bed again, MJ spooning Peter until they’re both asleep. She lets her tears stain the bottom of his neck, unsure of what happened in his nightmare. He used to tell her about them, in great detail. He didn’t protect her from them before and she didn’t want him protecting her now. As angry as she wanted to be about it, she was also aware that she needed to give him time to trust her. She also realized, as hard as it was to admit to herself, she needed to define how much time she was willing to wait for him to tell her. She wanted to know he wasn’t still punishing her for leaving those years ago. They’d talked about it, sure, but did he move on from the hurt? Did she? 

She wasn’t sure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare was unexpected and Peter will, hopefully, explain it to MJ in the next chapter. Kudos, questions, comments always appreciated !!


	11. Hole in their memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Today has been nice,” Peter said handing MJ the bowl of popped popcorn.   
> She took it, smiled up at him and nodded, saying, “Yeah,” adding as he cuddled up next to her, “after your nightmare, it seemed like low key was the way to go. Not sure if it was a--  
> “You were Spider-Man,” Peter interrupted her, sitting up, lifting his head from her shoulder. Turning to her he said, “The first time I woke up, I was afraid I’d gone too far and then...then I went back to sleep and it was you fighting endgame, and somehow, I was there, but not fighting? I was watching and then one of the alien soldiers shot you…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said 11 chapters, not sure if I'll add more smut. I intended to end with smut and then, you know, the characters said they wanted different things. If I don't add chapters to this one, I will start a new fic that picks up where this one left off.

They didn’t have sex the rest of their weekend away, Peter wasn’t sure how to explain the dream to MJ considering what it revealed about what he had taken for granted. It was one thing to be angry with MJ about going back on her word. His reaction to the tables being reversed exposed him for the hypocrite he was.   
“Today has been nice,” Peter said handing MJ the bowl of popped popcorn.   
She took it, smiled up at him and nodded, saying, “Yeah,” adding as he cuddled up next to her, “after your nightmare, it seemed like low key was the way to go. Not sure if it was a--  
“You were Spider-Man,” Peter interrupted her, sitting up, lifting his head from her shoulder. Turning to her he said, “The first time I woke up, I was afraid I’d gone too far and then...then I went back to sleep and it was you fighting endgame, and somehow, I was there, but not fighting? I was watching and then one of the alien soldiers shot you…  
She turned her head to take his facial expressions fully, eyebrows furrowed, not saying anything.  
“You died in my arms and there was nothing,” he said taking in a deep breath, “nothing I could have done and--  
He meets her eyes, waiting for her to say what he’s too cowardly to say out loud.   
She doesn’t.   
“And I felt what you must have felt like when you left,” he said, lowering his volume with each word, “it felt like dying even though...I felt your heart stop beating and I…  
“Yeah,” she breathed.   
“I never thought I took for granted how you felt,” he confesses, beginning to play with the knit blanket wrapping both of them, “I thought, you know, before, I was careful...I thought we had it figured out.”  
“Me, too,” MJ admits looking down at his nervous fingers.   
“I know I can’t not know what’s out there,” he says, lifting her chin so their eyes could meet.   
“I can’t not do anything…”  
“Me either,” she says, “and I’m not going to stop you.”   
“I need to let you hold me,” Peter admits as she sets her hand next to the hand he left on the blanket.   
She nods in response, looking down again.   
In response, he ducks to meet her eyes again and says, “I need to surrender to you the way you did with me yesterday.”  
She lifts her eyes after he does. He continues to say, “I need to be that vulnerable about what I need from you…  
“We haven’t really talked about that kind of stuff,” she says, “I was scared this morning, couldn’t shake it...felt like it was angry break up sex--  
Peter shook his head, taking her face in both his hands saying, “No, no, no, no, not that--  
“Then what was it?”  
“It was hard to be back here, back here with you,” he said resting his hands on hers and shrinking the space between them, “I cried a lot here; took me a while to not see you in every corner of the house--  
She sniffles, nodding, as she says, “my grief at being back here is...different…”  
“You don’t wanna--  
“I’m grieving the years of memories I missed,” she explains, “the conversations I couldn’t have with Morgan out of respect for what you were to each other, while also making sure she knew she was important to me...I had them in my life but I didn’t have you, and that meant I didn’t/couldn’t have more of this.”  
She took a breath, taking in the darkening sky outside, grabbing the remote, she admits out loud, “I’m not sure I’m making any sense…”  
“There’s a hole in the memories I built here, a hole I saved for you even though I wasn’t sure you’d return…”  
“I love parts of the life I lived in Oakland,” MJ confesses with a sad smile and removing the bowl of popcorn from her lap to set it in the coffee table in front of them, “there were parts of myself I could have never gotten to know if we didn’t--but then I think about the parts I didn’t get to know because we weren’t together…”  
“Yeah,” he says taking her in her arms, “it’s hard to be just happy or sad because you’re here, we’re here right now...like I want you here more than anything but I remember--  
“Yeah,” she says, laying her head over his heart, “and I hope you remember I love you more…”  
“I want to,” he admits, “and maybe that means telling you the sad stuff---  
“I won’t marry you till you let me see all your scars, Pete,” she says wrapping her arms around him.   
“I won’t ask you till I can,” he answers grabbing the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am thinking about how to heal that and write more BDSM between them from a place of emotional health instead of grief. Comments and questions much appreciated, thanks for taking this journey with me :)


End file.
